


I speak the truth

by wisia



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Civil War, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 15:22:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4142763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can’t lie to your soulmate, but Tony does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I speak the truth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/gifts).
  * Inspired by [love and other lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982591) by [laireshi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laireshi/pseuds/laireshi). 



> Wanted to write a version of soulmates can’t lie to each other post. Ended up writing based/re-mixingoff laireshi‘s fic and, well, yeah.

Tony lies.

Tony lies, and he lies well. Even if it’s to Steve. Especially if it’s to Steve.

Because Tony Stark is Iron Man, and hardly anyone knows that and certainly _not_ Steve. Tony wants to laugh at how it burns. You can’t lie to your soulmate, but he does. In omissions and cleverly worded truths to sound exactly like a lie. He never knew how much it hurts to lie until he lied to Steve. He lies every day, every minute, and every second. Tony could tell the truth, but he has never once deserved someone like Steve.

And he lies.

“Which mug of coffee is this one?” Steve asks in the kitchen when he comes in. It’s innocent, and Tony waits a second. Sips his coffee and lets the words fall off his tongue. It’s an evasive answer this time.

“It’s not my first if that’s what you’re asking, but then you already know that.”

He toasts Steve with his cup and swans out. Before Steve can pursue it further. Ask him a question that Tony won’t be able to evade. It’s just a simple question, but the lie weighs heavy—a pinprick in his heart.

“Have you seen Iron Man?” Steve asks, and that’s an easy one. It doesn’t hurt so much to say it, and Tony thinks of seeing himself in the mirror, of seeing the reflection of himself in the armor on the glass of his workshop walls.

“Yes,” Tony says. He heads for the door to suit his words. “He’s on his way out. I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”

Steve watches him go, and Tony wonders if he knows. Because he remembers—Tony met Captain America, Steve Rogers, in his finest glory. He opened his mouth—

And spoke the truth.

It should have been the same for Steve, if it went both ways. But Steve doesn’t call Tony out on it, and Tony continues to lie. He assumes Steve isn’t his soulmate like Tony was his. It makes his lies that much worse. He never wanted to lie to his soulmate, to Steve.

“Have you rested?” Steve asks Iron Man, the morning after a particularly grueling mission. “We all deserved a good sleep after the battle.”

Tony closes his eyes behind his helmet. Thinks of his night, unable to sleep, of his tosses and turns. Thinks of a cranky baby who screams all night long.

“I slept like a baby, Winghead,” Tony answers. “Stop worrying.”

And the lies go on.

“Are you fine?” Steve asks him, when a particularly hard hit sends Tony crashing into a building.

“Yes,” Tony says. He means it in that he isn’t dead, so he is fine. He sucks in a breath and exhales. “I’m fine.”

Sometimes, snatches of the truth peek through. Tony’s only human, and he can’t—he can’t lie all the time.

The whiskey is strong on his tongue, and Tony’s drunk. He smiles at Steve with glazed out eyes.

“I love you,” he slurs. Steve sighs and picks him up.

“Sure you do,” Steve replies. He cradles Tony against his chest, and he’s so warm. Tony burrows his head in, close till he can hear Steve’s heart beating strong. It’s the truth, and Steve doesn’t know. Then, again, it might be the only way for Tony say it out loud.

“I’m not half as good at—at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you.” That comes out before Tony can stop it, and he finds he doesn’t mind.

Yet…

The lies continue. All the way through the SHRA. Even into the war.

Steve hits him, and Tony hits back. Hits as hard as he can with as good as he got. And he learns, it really was always Steve.

“Damn you, Tony, why do you always have to be this way?”

 “Are you really asking me this?”

“I don’t want to fight you.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Tony says. “Just—don’t.”

He knows Steve isn’t his. Hasn’t been, even if Steve was his other half. It feels like a taunt.

“I can’t lie to you,” and the words hang between them. Steve laughs, just a little. “Funny, isn’t it?”

And Tony reels, shaking from exhaustion, from their fight, from what he knows now. He lies yes, but it didn’t mean—he has to—

“That doesn’t mean I don’t lo—“

Tony can’t bear to say it. If it wasn’t now, if it was before, if he had—

Steve gets locked up, and Tony visits him in jail.

“Is it worth it?” Steve asks.

“You’re a sore loser,” Tony says. It’s the truth wrapped up with too much feelings, too much between them. It isn’t what Tony wants to say. Not the other truth that stuck in his throat because he can’t say yes, but he can’t say no either. He has to leave.

Tony lies, and he lies well. He doesn’t want to lie anymore.

He sees the sniper, and Steve goes down.

Tony stares at Steve’s bloody shield and speaks the truth.


End file.
